Art Lies, Volume 1, March 1994
Page:
13

No bust for the artists in the show. Yet unless it isa major turning point in more regional scheduling,T/BTW is by all accounts a bust of "art scene"expectations. If, however, T/BTW is the son etlumikre for the vast "gray area" between life anddeath, then it is a winner! The issue here is aboutinstitutional marketing and delivery. CAM findsitself "between two worlds": what does CAM wantwith this show? Or:What does the show itself say?The entryway installation by Tre Arenz of Austinconsists of forty-two glass Fleaker jars (tall, beaker-like jars with large matte-black plastic caps). As theGallery Guide states, they are filled with "assortedfluids" (household liquids.detergents, cleansers, oils,etc.?), and arranged in a handsome Assembly Lineinstallation. FORTY-TWO Barbie-like figurinesmade of unfired clay are immersed in the Fleakers,one in each, where they are left to react-or not-with their "assorted liquid"(so we're told). Whatspecific fluids (Standard #'s?) are these thatdecompose and disperse to the degree we see ineach jar? Gallery Guide, catalogue, and videos allfail to answer anything more specific thanproviding highly charged environmental/feministbromides. The split-wall/chute wedge installationof Assembly Line besides breaking the "line"(Oh,please! - more division, dissolution, wrack-to ruin),is architecturally satisfying, but it wastes spacewithout enhancing the original wit of Arenz'spresentation intent.

Patricia Ruiz Bayon's homage/altar, 7 Imagery,To Magdalena, also suffers from scale andplacement problems. Why was no sanctuarymade for this work, which consists of sevenheadless and armless figures made of palm fiberand paper? These are icons shorn of theirsacred space, lost in the crowd, unframed, nonsequitur.Casey Williams, a Houston photographer, isthe only returning artist from the "first" CAMTriennial, in 1988. Williams has a wrap onwhat curators want. His hypothetical imageshave always been prolific and large-scale, oftenwith hand-painted color. Moreover, his workis non-offensive, non-preachy, and generally aucourant, and thus he is well-represented acrossthe country. His three photographs here aretechnical marvels that aspire to more than justover-printing darkroom wizardry or classicdouble-exposure cliches. Still, one can discernhere the standard T/BTWstatements: overlays,dualities, and ever-doubling paradoxes.Thomas Glassford, the show master of cool,the Mr. Potatohead of jangling dualities,commands the viewer's awareness by using theseductive potential of violence. Using chromedfittings and polyvinyl tubing, Glassfordjuxtaposes an up-to-the-minute biotechnologyfeel with the simple anthropomorphics of driedspherical gourds. And what wondrous space isg to hments, r( sp cnd chrmuiesm A

And then there is the "life thus death" realitytesting of Greg Reuter's 25 suspended ceramicheads and Bill Thomas's photographiclampoons of suicide. Oh, the absurdity of it all!These two artists depict an existentialfascination with death that seems almost tofollow Albert Camus, book by book. Fourvisits to T/BTW since the opening have beenquite revealing, as one hears people commentabout Reuter's and Thomas's images: "Ohgood- more death!" I am sure that CAM hasnot been using subliminal tapes to transmitthis "message." At least Thomas's large imageshave humor, however dark you may find it.The only male painter in the show, DavidMcGee, also of Houston, exercises theparadigm palette of foreboding, angst, andalienation. Using emphatic gestures, McGeegives his work a strong emotive power,especially in Inferno IX: Bronwyn's Red Rain.He successfully evokes a sense of "falling,"providing handsomely haunting manifestationsof self-examination.